You know the old folk song that goes like this?
O dear, what can the matter be?
Dear, dear, what can the matter be?
O dear, what can the matter be?
Johnny’s so long at the fair.
I wrote it with some dirty song lyrics.
A dirty song
(to the tune of ‘Oh Dear! What Can The Matter Be?)
Oh dear! What can the matter be?
My plan for the best kind of Saturday:
In my pants in a gentlemen’s lavatory
Covered in jizz on the floor.
I’m obsessed with getting in trouble
I need much more than a kiss and a cuddle
Show me two cocks and I’ll go for the double
And maybe I’ll stretch to one more.
Oh dear! What can the matter be?
Get six men, persuade them to splatter me
Sex, I guess, is the best kind of flattery
Give me a little bit more.
Hold my hand, as you blow me a kiss, lady
Down four pints and then drench me in piss baby
Aim for the mouth I don’t mind if you miss honey
Soon I’ll be ready for more.
Oh dear! What can the matter be?
Let’s do things that’d shock Lady Chatterley:
Kiss, and fuck, oh whip and then batter me
Bet I’ll come back for some more.
Wait! Now! I’m starting to hear it
The whispered rage from people who fear it:
Sex, they say, is dirty and queer it
Will terrorise kids who watch porn.
Oh dear, what can the matter be
Daily Mail’s gone full right wing twat at me
“Ban this filth” they railed and then spat at me
Let’s write a little bit more.
We’ve got words: our blogs and our books
We’ve got love, lust and a hatred of crooks
We’ve got buckets of lube, we’ve got ‘come to bed’ looks
And we’re writing a little bit more.
We’ve got hope that they want to smother and
They’ve got Trump and your racist grandmother and
They’ve got hate, but we’ve got each other
And fuck you we’re winning this war.
Oh dear! What can the matter be?
My plan for the best kind of Saturday
Friends, wine, and good dirty chatter we’ll
Write just a little bit more.
I wrote this because writing hasn’t been much fun lately, but when I got a couple of lines of this in my head I thought it might be fun to write them. And it was. It’s meant to be an ode to the nice community feel of events like Eroticon and Woodhull and all the lovely people who write about sex. I don’t know why I feel I have to apologise for writing silly fun things that rhyme. Hopefully some of you like silly fun things that rhyme. xxx
6 Comments
Amazing!
Hehe, thanks!
When my mum used to sing this song, it was about getting locked in the lavatory… didn’t go on like this though!
(I’m trying and failing to come up with a further verse. Something about being slatternly…)
I think we could all use some silly fun for a few minutes – this is a brilliant and hilarious parody!
I love it. Can’t wait to join in with you and I’ll throw in some harmony if pissed enough.
Missy
Yesssss! Ok I’m gonna hold you to that – roll on end of the plague and next Eroticon!!